


All Wrapped Up In You

by IBoatedHere



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sharing Clothes, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBoatedHere/pseuds/IBoatedHere
Summary: Five times Bitty wears Jack's flannel and one time he doesn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to Mack for betareading for me!

1

“Bittle?”

Bitty’s being gently shaken awake and he hates it. 

He’s not sure where he is or what time it is. All he can remember is getting a pie out of the oven and then everything was hot and blurry and now there’s a hand on his shoulder and a concerned voice in his ear. 

He groans and just barely opens his eyes. He has something warm wrapped around his shoulders and he clings to it.

Jack sits down on the coffee table and looks at him through narrowed eyes. He looks a little sweaty and flushed in that ratty, old sweatshirt that Bitty pretends to hate. 

“Bitty. Are you okay?” 

“No,” Bitty mumbles, voice muffled by a pillow. 

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” 

He had no idea he was on the couch. He’s horrified and makes a series of noises into the pillow until Jack tilts his head away from the fabric. His fingers are cool against his own overheated skin. 

“Got really hot and dizzy,” Bitty tells him, “needed to lie down.”

“You couldn't make it upstairs?”

“Too many stairs,” he whispers through chattering teeth. He remembers looking up at them and shaking his head before he crawled onto the couch. He remembers Jack’s shirt hanging over over the arm of it and grabbing it on his way down. 

“Are you cold?”

“I was hot then cold and your shirt was on the couch so….used to be a blanket here but...I don't know.” 

Bitty closes his eyes as Jack leans over him. 

“It fell off the back. Do you want it?”

“No. I'll be too warm. This is okay.”

“You're shaking. I should get you upstairs.”

“Don't want to move. Too warm.”

“I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that. You get chilly in 65 degree weather.”

Bittle doesn't say anything and only opens his eyes when he hears Jack drop to his knees next to him. 

Jack sighs. “You really don't feel well, do you?”

Bitty shakes his head and lets his eyes close. He can hear Jack shuffle a bit and then feels the brush his fingertips across his forehead, pushing sweat damp hair out of the way. Bitty hums like it’s the only thing that’s ever felt good. 

“You really should be in bed, Bittle.”

“I know.” He thinks about the flight of stairs and the long stretch of hallway. It’s daunting but it might be manageable with Jack’s help. “My pie,” he says suddenly. “Make sure they don’t cut it before it’s cooled. It’ll be a mess.”

“I’ll take care of it, Bittle.”

“You don’t know how those boys are.”

Jack spreads his palm across Bittys cheek to calm him down. Bitty sighs. It just feels so good. 

“I think I have some idea. I can handle it. Promise. I’ll stand guard if I have to. You’ll be more comfortable upstairs. You hate this couch.”

He does hate this couch. It’s uncomfortable and disgusting and there’s something crunchy by his left knee. The idea of standing is daunting but he has to do it.

Jack puts a steadying hand on his arm as the flannel slides off his shoulders. Jack grabs it before it hits the couch.

“Do you want this,” he asks and Bitty looks at the shirt then drags his eyes up to Jack’s hand then up his arm and finally to his Jack’s face before he nods and sticks his arms into the shirt. 

Jack pulls it up his shoulders for him and his hands flail in front of it, like he’s trying to decide if he should button it for him. It’s not something Bitty would be opposed to. 

But Jack drops his hands to his sides, only to have one of them settle on the middle of Bitty’s back as he guides him slowly up the stairs and down the hall, only removing it to pull back the covers on his bed so he can slide in. 

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Bitty sleeps soundly, only waking up when the front door slams. He can hear Jack’s voice, only slightly muffled by the pillow he has over his head tell whoever it is to _shut the fuck up, Bitty’s sick._

The next time he wakes up it’s his own fault. He’s coughing so hard his eyes start to water and it takes him a few minutes to notice Jack sitting next to him rubbing his back. 

“Sorry I woke you up,” Bitty says with a hoarse voice.

“I was up anyways.”

Bitty sinks back into the pillow, shakes off Jack’s attempt to tuck his comforter up under his chin in favor of pulling Jack’s shirt tight around him. “What were you doing up?”

Jack shrugs. “Just couldn’t sleep.” 

Bitty doesn’t buy it. He has some vague, cloudy, memory of someone pulling the covers up his shoulders after he’d kicked them off and untwisting the flannel from around his body so it wasn’t choking him. 

“Can I get you anything,” Jack asks with his hand still moving in small circles across his back. “Water? Cough syrup?”

“Do we have cough syrup?”

“No, but I could-.”

“Don’t you dare, Jack Zimmermann. I know you take your captain duties very seriously but you are not going out in the middle of the night for cough syrup.”

“If you need it I’ll go.”

“I’m fine, Jack. I feel better already.”

He ends the sentence in a cough that starts up another thirty seconds of hacking up a lung. Jack frowns and keeps rubbing his back throughout it. 

“I’m really okay. You’ve already done enough.”

“I haven’t done anything. Chowder came by with six different thermometers because he didn’t know which one was the best and Dex showed up with a blanket he brought from Maine because you brought him soup when he was sick.”

“Oh,” Bitty says as he reaches behind him. He got tangled in the thick wool earlier in the evening and had no idea what it was. “That’s what this is.”

“So if you need anything you should tell me.”

“I think I just need to go back to sleep.”

Jack nods but doesn’t get up. If anything it looks like he’s settling in further.

“You should probably go to bed too. Don’t you have an early class?”

Jack startles and pushes himself up. “I do, yeah.” He tips his head towards the door. “I should probably go. Hope you feel better in the morning.”

Bitty’s right on the edge of drifting off when he feels fingertips against his forehead. That’s what pushes him over into a deep sleep. 

He wakes up late in the morning. Someone shut the alarm on his phone off. There’s also a bottle of water on his nightstand. Bitty suspects Jack is responsible for both. 

He stays in bed most of the day, napping and catching up on twitter. 

Dex’s blanket is soft and warm but it’s got nothing on Jack’s flannel that he refuses to take off even when his fever spikes and he breaks out in a sweat. 

Shitty talks him into taking a shower in the afternoon but Bitty refuses to let him in the bathroom with him. 

“What if you pass out? What if you fall? What if you crack your head open? Jack will kill me.”

Bitty agrees to a compromise. Shitty stands outside of the bathroom but Bitty will leave the door open a crack. 

When he comes out he’s still wearing Jack’s flannel and Shitty merely raises his eyebrows before leading him back to his room. 

Jack doesn’t knock before he opens the door.

He’s got an armful of books and seems a little stunned to see Bitty sitting up in bed. 

“Sorry. I thought you might be asleep and I didn’t want to wake you. Are you feeling better? Shitty texted me and said he made you take a shower. You gave him a hard time about it.”

“He wanted to come into the shower with me. Not just stand next to the shower, in the shower.”

Jack huffs a laugh and sets the books down on Bitty’s desk. “That sounds like him. I stopped to talk to your professors on my way home and got your make up work.”

“Oh. That’s very….responsible of you.” Bitty still hasn’t finished the work that was supposed to be due today.

“I didn’t want you to fall behind. I told them all you weren’t feeling well and got them to give you extra time so there isn’t a rush. But I’ll help you if you want.”

That makes it a hundred times more appealing. 

“Thanks, Jack.”

“No problem, Bittle. Are you feeling any better?”

“I'll be back to making pies in no time.”

“Don't push it.”

“I haven't baked in 24 hours!”

“Is that a record?” Jack says dryly. 

“Don't chirp me, I'm sick.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sticks a hand out to ruffle it through Bittys hair. “If you're so sick turn your phone off and get some more rest.” 

“Wait.” Bitty wraps his fingers around Jack’s wrist and yanks him back. “I should give you your shirt back. Forgot I had it on.” It's a white lie that Jack doesn't call him on as he unbuttons the shirt and hands it over. “You might want to wash it. Who knows what kind of germs are on it.”

Jack laughs. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Bittle.”

“Oh yeah, much better. I think-.”

Bitty doesn’t know what he thinks because Jack’s reaching out again and covers Bitty’s forehead with his palm. He leaves it there for a moment then slowly pulls it away, fingers dragging across his skin. 

“Your fever’s gone down.”

Bitty nods dumbly.

“You should still get some rest though.” He plucks the phone from Bitty’s hand and sets it on his desk. 

Bitty crawls under the covers doing his best to pretend to put up a fight. 

Jack flicks off the light then closes the door and Bitty falls back to sleep with the feel of Jack’s hand on him.

He dreams he’s still wearing the flannel. 

 

2

 

Bitty has his flashcards spread out in front of him on his table at Annie’s. He’s got a five full minutes to study before his class starts. That should be plenty of time. 

His vanilla latte is in the middle of it all. He ordered it extra hot and hasn't taken a sip. By the time he crosses the quad to his class it'll be the perfect temperature. He can't wait to take that first sip. 

He flips over one flash card and winces when the answer doesn't match the one he was thinking. He decides to shoot for a C instead of a B. 

“Bittle.”

Bitty looks up and sees Jack headed towards him, backpack across one shoulder, his camera around his neck, and his flannel shirt buttoned over a white tee. 

Bitty drops his feet from the chair opposite of him, where he thinks Jack will drop his backpack and sit down, but Jack pulls the one out right next to Bittle and carefully sets his camera on the table. 

Their knees knock together.

“Last minute studying, Bittle?”

“Umm. Sure.” That sounds a lot better than the truth; that this is the first time he’s looked at the flashcards since he made them. 

“You want me to quiz you?”

“I think I’m good,” Bitty says as he shuffles the cards. “Don’t want to be too prepared, you know?”

Jack narrows his eyes and Bitty smiles and nods to his camera, deciding that the best thing for him to do is to change the subject. “Did you get any good shots for your project?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says as he turns it on. “Things are starting to get green again. Flowers are coming up. I saw a robin. I still have no idea what the theme of my project is going to be though.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got time.”

“I know but…” He trails off and Bitty watches his face fall. He has time, but not a lot of it. Graduation is a handful of weeks away. It’s out there. It’s a date Bitty has circled on his calendar and the longer it’s there the more he dreads it. He never thought that Jack might be feeling the same way. “Do you want to see them? I really need a second opinion.”

Bitty doesn’t really have time either but Jack’s a hard thing to say no to. If he runs across the quad he’ll only be a few minutes late and his seat is in the back row. He can sneak right in. 

Bitty nods and Jack scoots his chair even closer and when he picks up the camera so they can both see the display screen he accidentally nudges Bitty’s coffee cup and knocks it over.

The top pops off and coffee floods the table.

His flashcards take the brunt of it but Bitty’s too slow to pull his chair out in time (he’s too focused on how close Jack is to him) and he’s left with coffee stains quickly setting into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“I’m so sorry, Bittle,” Jack says as he grabs napkin after napkin from the empty table next to them. “I ruined your flashcards.”

Bitty doesn’t particularly care about the flashcards. They were headed for the trash after this test anyways. What he does care about is how damp his sweatshirt is and how he’s going to have to sit through class with it.

“Your sweatshirt too,” Jack says, reading Bitty’s mind. He dabs at it with a fresh wad of napkins but it’s not going to do any good. “I’m so sorry, Bits.”

“You already said that.” Bitty says as he gently pushes Jack’s hands away. He doesn’t want him to feel guilty. “You didn’t mean to. It’ll come out in the wash so it’s not a big deal.”

“I can wash it for you. Let me have it. It’ll be done by the time you get out of class.”

Bitty has nothing to change into in his bag and the tank top he’s wearing underneath is going to do nothing to protect him from the AC that’s already blasting through all the classrooms. 

“I only have a tank under this. I’ll freeze.”

“It’s not even-.”

“That cold out,” Bitty finishes for him and Jack looks a little disappointed that he didn’t get to finish his chirp. “I know it’s not but they blast the air conditioners in all the buildings. I’ll just wear it. It has to dry eventually.”

Jack stares at the coffee stain then shakes his head and stands. “No. Take it off.”

Bitty’s thought about Jack saying that to him but never in public. Well. Mostly never in public. “What?”

“You can wear mine,” Jack says as he shrugs the flannel from his shoulders.

Bitty watches him for a moment before it really sinks in. “Oh no, Jack, no, I couldn’t. I can’t.”

Jack looks nonplussed as he holds the shirt out. “Sure you can. Shitty wears it all the time. I’m headed back anyways and I have to do a load of laundry so I’ll just throw it in with mine. It’ll be dry by the time you get back.” He shakes it at Bitty. “Bittle. You’re gonna be late. Take it.” He shakes it at him once more and Bitty is pulling his sweatshirt over his head and grabbing the flannel. 

Jack folds the sweatshirt over his arm as Bitty rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

“Looks good on you.”

Bitty huffs a laugh that dies in his throat when Jack reaches out and brushes his knuckles against the side of his neck as he fixes the collar of the flannel. 

_“Oh,”_ Bitty says as Jack’s fingers fall away. _I can be late,_ he thinks, _you can keep touching me._

“Bittle.”

Bitty blinks up at him. 

“Class. You’re going to be late.”

“Oh. Right.” He gathers up the salvageable flashcards and jams them in his bag. “I’ll see you back at the Haus.”

“I’ll have your sweatshirt cleaned.”

“Uh-huh,” Bitty yells over his shoulder as he runs out the door. “Okay!” 

Miraculously he’s not late. 

He draws a few curious looks from his classmates for sliding through the door all sweaty and in a shirt that’s clearly two sizes too big for him but he settles into his seat just as his professor walks in. 

He tries his best to concentrate on the task at hand but the sleeves of the shirt keep coming unrolled and slide down his forearm and the whole thing smells like Jack. Like Old Spice and his detergent. Clean and warm and comfortable. Distracting. If this is what it’s like to wear a boyfriend’s shirt he’s not sure he could do it.

He’s not sure where that thought came from but he starts to chase it. He thinks about what it would be like if that were true, if this was his boyfriend's shirt. If he was running late this morning and grabbed the first thing he could find off the bedroom floor. He’d button it up with clumsy fingers, missing a button or two on the first try and ignoring the muffled laughter from under the covers as he corrected his mistake. He’d lean over for a goodbye kiss and get dragged back in for more. Wide, strong, hands would slip beneath the shirt and around his back to pull him closer. Morning stubble would drag across his cheeks as they kissed. Bitty would tell him he really needed to go, he was going to be late, and Jack-.

Bitty’s pen skips across the paper and tears a hole right by question thirteen.

Bitty takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the paper. 

Jack, because of course it’s Jack, would tell him that five more minutes won’t mean the end of the world. Jack would convince him to stay a little while longer with his lips on his neck and collarbone until he had enough and pushed Jack back only to climb on top of him a second later.

Heat blooms across his face and he feels incredibly claustrophobic beneath the fabric of Jack’s shirt. 

He shouldn’t be thinking like this about his captain. About his straight captain. 

It’s tempting to quit halfway through the test once it becomes obvious that he’s not going to be able to think of anything but spending a lazy morning in bed with Jack. 

He does his best to pull answers out of his mind in between the flashes of Jack’s hand on his hips and Jack’s lips on his neck pushing aside the fabric of the shirt so he can gets more access. 

He drops his pen, shoves the heels of his hand into his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

There are several answers he has to leave blank but he feels like he at least managed a C- when he leaves the paper on the professor's desk. 

The Haus is quiet when he gets home and Bitty drops his bag by the door and starts unbuttoning the shirt as he jogs up the stairs. 

It’s off and folded by the time he gets to Jack’s room and he gently places it in the middle of Jack’s bed. Then he makes a hasty retreat so he doesn’t start thinking about the way Jack’s sheets smell or what it would be like waking up in Jack’s bed instead of his own. 

Bitty slams right into Jack on his way out.

Jack has his sweatshirt in his hands but still manages to hold Bitty upright with his free hand gripping his elbow. 

“I thought I heard you come home. How’d your test go?”

“Oh, you know.” Bitty slides past him, careful not to touch anymore than necessary. “We’ll see.”

“You sound confident.”

Bitty forces a laugh as he ducks into his own room but Jack follows.

“I have your sweatshirt. Just out of the dryer.”

Bitty snatches it from him and pulls it on just so he has something to do. It’s still warm and Bitty’s overwhelmed with the scent of Jack’s detergent as he tries to get it over his head.

“We should go out for coffee sometime.”

“What?” It’s high pitched and frantic but thankfully it’s mostly muffled by the sweatshirt. Bitty gets his head through the opening and yanks it down. When he speaks again it’s much more calm. “What did you say?”

“We should go get coffee. I owe you since I spilled the one this morning.”

“Right. That’s right.” Bitty fights back disappointment. It’s not a date. “You don’t have to do that Jack. You already gave me the shirt off your back.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“It was more than enough,” Bitty says softly. “But coffee sometime would be nice.”

Jack’s answering smile is bigger than Bitty has ever seen off the ice after a celly. “Great. Sometime when you’re not studying last minute for a test you’ve known about for two weeks.”

“That’s….not what I was doing.”

“If you say so, Bittle. Let me know when you’re free.”

“Yeah, sure, fine. I’ll let you know,” Bitty rambles and Jack gives him one last smile before he turns to leave and Bitty’s left alone in his room trying to deal with the disappointment that it won’t be a date.

 

3

 

Bitty leaves Providence for the first time with a Lego figurine, his first Official Boyfriend, and Jack’s flannel tucked into his overnight bag. 

Jack handed it over to him shyly, just like he did with the Lego, and told him that he should take it with him. “You know,” he said while rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, “so you don’t miss me too much.”

But no amount of cozy flannel is going to stop that from happening. 

Bitty misses him constantly. 

After Jack left Georgia they lived on late night Skype sessions where Jack was sleepy from practice and Bitty had to whisper so he didn’t wake up his parents and texts messages that made Bitty blush and smile down at his phone and carefully timed phone calls so mama wouldn’t comment on all the time he spends talking to an ex-teammate. 

Jack picked him up from the airport a week before classes started and hugged him back when Bitty threw his arms around his neck. 

Jack laughed and whispered “missed you too, Bittle,” into his ear before letting him go and hauling Bitty’s bag onto his shoulder.

He talked constantly on the car ride into Providence. Nervous energy in anticipation for being truly alone since Jack found him at the Haus folding Chowder's clothes and changed his whole world. 

Jack’s content to listen to stories about jam and the kids at camp and something funny his Moomaw had said until they actually get back to the apartment and Jack locks the door behind them. 

He crowded Bitty back against it and let his fingertips wander around to the small of his back. “Hi.”

Bitty blushed beneath his gaze and it looked like Jack was counting every one of his new summer freckles and from that moment on it was even better than Bitty could have imagined it being. 

He learns the layout of Jack’s body long before the layout of the apartment and just like his daydreams when he tries to get up the next morning to get coffee going Jack drags him back in and tells him to go back to sleep with his lips pressed to the back of his neck. 

Bitty quickly found that spending that much time alone with Jack was terrifyingly easy. How they’d bump into and chirp each other in the kitchen while Bitty made lunch and how it all broke down into long, slow kisses that left Bitty scrambling to turn the stove off before Jack picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. 

He knows that real and lasting love is hard work. His parents did their best to never fight in front of him but that doesn’t mean he didn’t overhear arguments from upstairs in his bed when they thought he was asleep.

The honeymoon can’t last forever. 

But at the end of the week when Jack leaned over the center console of his truck and kissed him goodbye in the parking lot of the train station he thought maybe it could. 

He couldn’t ever imagine feeling anything less than than this all consuming love for him. 

As the train pulls away Bitty’s hit with a sharp pain of loneliness. 

He misses Jack more and more with every mile that passes and before the train is even out of the state he’s digging through his bag for the shirt. 

Everything he's carefully folded winds up in a ball and jammed back into his suitcase just so he can wrap the flannel around himself. 

It's a comfort and when he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the window he can almost pretend that Jack is here with him, wrapping his arms around him again. 

Everything's so different now. 

He's not sure what he's supposed to do now. How he's supposed to adapt. 

He loves Chowder to death and he can’t wait for him to excitedly ramble on about the super cute date he and Farmer went on but it won’t be the same as hearing soft country music being played beneath a closed door.

And he knows Ransom and Holster are going to be great captains and if he asked they’d absolutely help him with early morning checking practices but Jack already knows everything about the progress he’s made and it’s going to be exhausting to catch the two of them up. 

His first real love just had to be both long distance and a secret. Nothing can ever be easy. 

He’s going to have to learn how to keep this all inside. He’s going to need to develop an A+ poker face. He’s going to have to find an outlet to channel his feelings into, most likely baking, and pretend it’s nothing more than the stress of junior year getting to him. 

He just has to be careful. He can’t slip up. If this secret gets out before they’re ready….

Bitty pulls his knees up to his chest and covers his face with the too long sleeves of the shirt as he dials Jack’s number. 

Jack picks up after the third ring, voice bright but distracted and Bitty realizes how silly he’s being. Jack should be focusing on driving instead of calming him down. 

“Hey, Bittle, what’s up? Did you forget something? I know you put Bun in your bag. I saw you do it. He’s in there, don’t worry.”

“Jack.”

There’s dead air for a few moments and then a soft “hey, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Do this.” Bitty helplessly flaps his hands in front of his face. “I feel so stupid. I miss you so much already and I just don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I don’t want to do anything to mess it up and really Jack, right now I’m a total mess. I saw you ten minutes ago and I’m already wearing your shirt.”

“You’re wearing my shirt?”

“Yes,” Bitty snaps. “Isn’t that why you gave it to me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you too.”

“But you didn’t call me crying.”

“Are you crying?”

Bitty sniffles into the phone. “No.”

“Bits.”

“You’re so far away.”

“It’s not that far, Bittle.”

He could be across the country. What then?

“I’m used to you being across the hall.”

“I know but you’re going to come to the opening game, right, and I’ll be there for yours. You can come here whenever you want and I’ll do everything I can to make sure I can visit you as often as possible. We’re going to Skype every night so you can let me know what’s going on and you can text and call. You can call me anytime you want. I can't always promise that I'll be able to pick up and I'm so sorry about that but if you ever need to talk I'm never not going to call you back. I know it's not going to be easy but I'm going to do everything I can to make it work. I really want this to work.”

“I do too. I know it will I'm just….overwhelmed.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Jack. This past week has been amazing. These past months have been amazing. I feel better just talking to you.”

“Anytime you need to talk I'm here, okay?”

Bitty wipes at his eyes with the collar of the flannel. “Okay.”

“And Bittle, I've never felt this way about anyone either.”

Bitty feels like crying for a completely different reason.

 

4

 

Bitty hears the apartment door shutting and then the sound of Jack’s keys just barely clinking against the glass bowl that he keeps them in like he’s set them down very carefully. 

Bitty rolls his eyes. 

He has his back to the door stirring a pot of sauce on the stove but he knows Jack is going to try to sneak up on him.

Jack tries it every time and every time he fails but he just won’t give up. 

Bitty has to admire his dedication. 

Jack’s footsteps move across the floor very slowly and by now Bitty can count them out in his head and know exactly where he is. Four more steps and he’ll be around the island, directly behind him but three steps back. 

He counts them down in his head, four, three, two, one, then taps the wooden spoon on the side of the pot. “I know you’re there.”

Jack sighs and then there’s three rushed footsteps before Jack’s arms wrap around Bitty’s middle and lips pressed to the side of his neck.

“Dammit, Bits.” But the words are offset by Jack laughing and spinning Bitty around in his arms. “I was trying to sneak up on you.”

Bitty puts both hands on Jack’s chest and lets himself look and feel. 

It’s the first time they’ve seen each other face to face in three weeks thanks to a stretch of away games for both of them, media obligations for Jack, and school projects for Bitty. 

Jack’s wearing his Falconer hat and when he twists it around backwards so they can kiss without obstruction Bitty can see that his hair is still damp from the shower he took after practice. 

“I love you,” Bitty says in the breath between one kiss and the next. They've been together in the apartment for five whole minutes and no one has said it and Bitty thinks that's tragic. 

“Love you too,” Jack answers, “so much.” Then he hooks his arms behind Bitty’s thighs and lifts him onto the counter. 

Bitty giggles at the sudden movement until Jack slides his hands along the front of his thighs, heavy with intent with his thumbs rubbing small circles against the insides of his knees. They move up to his waist then sneak beneath his shirt and up his ribs. Jack keeps his lips on Bitty’s neck the whole time while Bitty removes Jack’s hat so he can sink his fingers into his wet hair.

“Missed you,” Jack sighs. “This was too long. We’re not doing that again.”

“Blame my stupid group projects. I couldn’t get away.”

Jack leans back and raises an eyebrow. “How’d you do on them?”

“Alright.”

He pokes Bitty’s side and Bitty huffs. “C- on one of them and a B on the other two.”

Jack nods, considering, then he raises his fist towards Bitty. “Not bad.”

Bitty bumps his fist against Jack’s before pulling him between his knees. “It was a group effort now can we stop talking about it and get back to this. I missed you too.”

“Next time I’m taking you to California with me. I think you’d like it.”

“I can fit in your suitcase.”

“My carry-on,” Jack jokes and laughs when Bitty pushes him away.

“I don’t know why you think you’re funny.”

Jack makes it up to him when he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and gives Bitty more warm skin to press his fingers into.

He goes for Bitty’s shirt shortly after and while Bitty is usually against letting things escalate this far in the kitchen- _“I cook in here, Jack, I’ve rolled out pie dough. Right. Here.”_ \- it’s been so long and he’s going to make an exception to his own rule. 

Bitty drops his hands to the waistband of Jack’s sweatpants and is just about to reach them inside when Jack abruptly pulls away. Bitty almost tips off the counter trying to follow him. 

“Hold on, forgot something. Don’t move.” He kisses Bitty then dashes around the corner, footsteps padding down the hall. 

He’s back before Bitty can hop down and follow after and he’s holding his flannel shirt. Bitty frowns as Jack wrestles his arms into it.

“Why are you putting more clothes on me. You’re supposed to be taking them off. We should both be naked right now.” He rolls his shoulders as Jack does up some of the buttons and makes grabby hands at Jack’s hips. “Jack, what is this?”

“It stopped smelling like you,” he admits in a rush. The tips of his ears turn pink. “I could smell your cologne on it after you left it here the last time but after a couple of wears it faded. I thought that if you wore it again it would fix it. It’s stupid. You can take it off.” He reaches for the buttons but Bitty turns away, gripping the shirt tight in his hand. 

“It’s not stupid. I do the same thing. I know I can’t always have you right next to me but I can have this. It’s something. It helps.”

“I have a few roadies coming up and I just thought…”

Bitty cups his hand around Jack’s jaw. “I’ll wear it, sweetheart. Anytime you want me to. What I just don’t understand is why you’re in such a rush to put this on me when you’re just gonna take it back off. I mean, couldn’t it have waited?”

Jack fiddles with the end of the sleeve. “Maybe you don’t take it off.”

“What?”

“Don’t take it off,” Jack says as he steps in closer. He slides his hands up his thighs and pulls Bitty tight against him. “Leave it on.”

“But aren’t we gonna…”

Jack’s eyes darken and his fingers skate beneath the hem of Bitty’s shorts. “We’re definitely gonna. I told you I have those away games and everytime I put it on I’m gonna think of this.” 

“Oh.”

“I’m going to think of you.” 

“Okay.” 

“And us in this kitchen.” He tips Bitty forward so he can work Bitty’s shorts off his hips. 

“You’re going to be blushing in public,” Bitty says breathlessly as Jack kisses his neck just above the edge of the shirt. 

“Maybe.”

“The guys are going to chirp you.”

“Worth it.”

Jack kisses him, deep and slow, until Bitty has to push him away just so he can take a breath. 

“Okay, alright, I'm leaving it on but-.” He takes a deep breath and tries to get himself to calm down so this isn't over before it even really starts. “But Shitty is never going to wear this shirt again.”

Jack's face twists and then he laughs and gathers Bitty into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 

“Deal.”

 

5

 

“Try not to overdo it, okay Bits.”

“It's Christmas, honey, that's the point. Mama and I have already made three cakes. We're doing the pies next.”

Jack makes a concerned noise in the back of his throat. 

“And that's just the desserts. The entrees and sides are gonna be put together tomorrow.” 

“Bittle.”

“Jack. Overindulging is the reason for the season. It's what makes Christmas, Christmas.”

“I thought it was about spending time with people you love.”

If that were true they'd be together right now. This is the second Christmas they've spent apart since they got together and it hasn't gotten easier. They're in separate countries and Bitty would give anything just to be able to kiss him underneath the mistletoe his Mama’s hung up in every doorway.

“Bitty?”

“I wish you were here. Or I was there.”

Jack’s quiet for a moment. “I know. I wish I was with you too. Maybe next year.”

Bitty wants that so much. About as much as it terrifies him. Spending the holidays with Jack would mean he’d have to tell them who Jack really is to him. He’d have to tell them who he really is. 

“There’s no rush, Bittle,” Jack says softly, like he can feel Bitty’s panic through the phone. “Whenever you’re ready.”

They’ve said those exact words to each other over and over again, meaning them every time. 

“I know. I just…” He wants to much with Jack. He wants everything with him and the things that stand in the way of that make him ache. 

“I know,” Jack tells him. “Me too.”

Bitty takes a deep breath to get himself under control. His mother's going to come looking for him if he doesn't get down stairs soon. He was only supposed to be gone a few minutes so under the pretense of changes into a dry shirt after he accidentally spilled juice on himself. 

“I have to get back to mama.”

“Are you going to be okay? You want to call me later?”

“I always want to call you,” Bitty mumbles as he pulls his wet shirt off. “It might be late. I don’t want to wake you.”

“I’ll stay up. I’ll wait for you.”

They say their _love yous_ and _goodbyes_ and Bitty thumbs through a stack of clean sweaters on the end of his bed. 

Bitty knows exactly what he’s doing when he drops the sweater and puts on the flannel. 

Suzanne doesn’t look up from rolling out the dough when he gets back to the kitchen.

“Can you grab the blueberries out of the freezer, dear?”

Bitty's heart is slamming against his chest as he does what she asks and sets the bag on the counter by her elbow. 

She looks up and smiles then does a double take when she sees the flannel. 

“I haven’t seen that shirt before,” she says as she picks at the seam on the shoulder. “It’s a little big on you. Is that how you kids are wearing them these days?”  
It would be easy to write it off as a joke and indulge her a little bit. He could laugh and chirp her about not being able to keep up with current fashion trends and threaten to start a fashion board on their shared Pinterest account. Suzanne has already moved her focus onto the pie and is rolling out the crust. He wouldn’t have to say anything at all if he didn’t want to. 

But Bitty doesn’t want to spend one more holiday sneaking off to call Jack. Hiding him and how happy Jack makes him.

“No, mama. It’s not mine.”

“Is it your fathers?” She looks up and studies it, like she’s trying to remember if she’s seen it in a drawer or on her husband before. “Did I mix up the laundry again?”

“It doesn’t belong to Coach. It’s Jack’s.”

“Jack Zimmermann?” 

Suzanne narrows her eyes when Bitty nods. 

“How’d you end up with it all the way down here?” It’s curious, not accusatory. 

Bitty plays with the bottom hem of the shirt before he raises his eyeline to meet his mother’s. “He gave it to me.”

“Why would he do that?” 

“It’s what we do, we pass it back and forth. You know, we can’t always spend as much time with each other as we’d like to so….this helps. A little.”

“How much time do you spend together?”

“As much as we can but it never feels like it’s enough.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Dicky…”

Bitty barrels on. “Mama, I didn’t mean to upset you and if you don’t….I’ll understand.” He stops because he doesn’t understand it and he’s done with not telling the truth. “If you don’t want me here-.”

“Oh, Eric.” She drops the rolling pin and wraps her arms around him. “Eric, sweetie, no. You’re my baby,” she says, emotion bubbling over in his voice. “I could never.”

“You could.” Bitty’s voice doesn’t sound anymore steady. “I’ve been thinking that you could.”

Suzanne holds him even tighter. She’s small but she’s strong and that’s probably where Bitty gets it from. 

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry for anything I ever did to make you think that.” She pulls back to look at him and at the first sight of her tears he feels his own start to well up. 

“I didn’t know what to think. I don't know what Coach is gonna do.”

“Don't you worry about your father.”

“But, daddy isn't….I'm not…”

Suzanne puts two flour covered hands on his cheeks. 

“You are kind and funny and thoughtful. You care so much about other people and always do everything you can to make them happy. You’re so bright.” She stands on her toes to kiss his forehead. “You’re a Southern Junior Regionals finalist. You’re the captain of your college hockey team and you’re going to graduate in a few months and even if you were none of those things you would still be the best thing that ever happened to him. To both of us.” She uses her thumbs to wipe away a few of Bitty’s tears. “It’s really no wonder Jack Zimmermann fell for you. I’m surprised it took him this long.”

“Well, actually, this isn’t really new.”

She blinks at him then steps around him to wrap the dough back up. She puts it in the fridge and grabs an unopened bottle of red wine out of the cabinet along with two glasses. 

“Come with me to the living room, sweetheart, you’re gonna tell me everything.”

By the time Coach gets home Suzanne and Bitty and pleasantly buzzed and giggling over the way Jack misuses emojis every other time he texts. 

Coach putters around in the kitchen for a bit while Bitty works up the nerve to go in there.

“You can tell him in the morning, hun. I’ll make a big breakfast.”

“No.” He doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing what could be waiting for him in the morning. “I should do it now.”

He stands, a little unsteady and shushes his mama when she laughs at him. “I’m right here if you need me, Dicky.”

Coach had been watching a football game with some of his buddies at a sports bar a few towns over and judging by the way he didn’t slam the door behind him when he came home Bitty guesses his team won. He should be in a good mood. 

He’s making a sandwich by the light of the open refrigerator, ducking back into it to grab slices of cheese and a bottle of mustard. 

“Good game, Coach?”

Coach grunts and nods. It’s high praise. “They pulled it out in the end. Do you want one,” he asks, nodding towards the half made sandwich on the counter.

“No thanks.” 

Coach shrugs. 

“Daddy….umm.” He doesn’t mean to blurt out _“Jack Zimmermann is my boyfriend”_ but that’s what happens. 

Coach doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t pause as he piles slices of ham onto his roll. 

“Coach?”

“Does he treat you right?” 

“What?”

“That boy. Your boy. Does he treat you right?”

“Oh my gosh.” Bitty stumbles forward with a hand over his heart. “Yes, Coach, yes, he’s...he’s…”

“He could stand to learn a little more about football, from what I could tell. Suppose there’s time for that.”

“I…..yeah.”

Coach nods and puts the food back into the fridge. He grabs a beer before he shuts the door and pops the top off on the edge of the counter. 

“Well. Next time he’s here we’ll have to take him to a game.” He gathers the plate in one hand and the beer in the other. “Now I gotta get out there and make sure your mama doesn’t spill that wine on the couch. Again. She already flipped the cushions once.” He steps in front of Bitty and puts the beer down on the counter so he has one hand free to put on his son’s shoulder. Coach squeezes his shoulder briefly then pulls him against his chest in a one armed hug. 

By the time Bitty thinks about reacting to it Coach is stepping away, grabbing his beer, and heading into the living room, only pausing to tell Bitty to grab a beer for himself if he’d like. 

Suzanne finishes off the wine without spilling it while Coach drinks his beer and Bitty sits between the two of them and takes sips from his own bottle. 

It’s awkward, but nearly as bad as he thought it would be and Coach turns on the news to fill the silence. Eventually his arm drapes across the back of the couch, a gentle weight on the tops of Bitty’s shoulders, and Bitty leans into him just a little, like he used to do when he was a little kid and it’s nice. It’s wonderful and out of the corner of his eye he can see his mama wipe away happy tears. 

Eventually Suzanne falls asleep on the couch and Bitty and Coach both stare at her and then at each other. Neither of them want to be the one to wake her. 

“Maybe,” Coach whispers, “maybe your mama and I could come up to one of your games. Maybe Jack will be there too and we could all get together. Have dinner or something.”

“We could go to a Falconer's game. It wouldn’t be a problem for Jack to get tickets. Might be more exciting for you.”

Coach shakes his head and sighs before gently shaking Suzanne’s shoulder. She mumbles something and swings an arm out. He rolls his eyes and scoops her up like she doesn’t weigh a thing. 

“I’d like to see you play, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Jack seems like a good man.”

“He is. The best.”

Coach nods once more and says “you have a goodnight, son,” before he carries Suzanne up the stairs. 

It’s late when Bitty finally gets up to his room to call Jack but Jack picks up on the first ring, just like he promised he would. 

“Jack.” There’s a slight slur in his voice that Jack picks up on immediately.

“Hey, Bud, are you drunk?”

“I’m tipsy. I’m happy. And my parents want to meet you. Really meet you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They want to meet my boyfriend.”

 

+1

 

Jack wakes up to crying coming over the baby monitor. 

He makes a grab for it on the bedside table so he can turn it down before it wakes Bitty but he’s too late. 

Bitty reaches over him and swipes it off the table. Then he pats a hand across Jack’s face. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, “I’ll go.”

“No, Bits. I’ll go.”

“You got home late and you have to be up in,” he yawns and turns his head towards the digital clock on the dresser. “Three hours.”

“You were home alone all day and I’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow. Let me go.”

He’s got the covers pulled back when Bitty swings his legs over his thighs and presses his hands to his chest. 

It’s been years but this kind of pressure still makes Jack’s breath catch in his throat. 

“Jack.” He ducks down and kisses his forehead and Jack sighs. His hands slide around the back of Bitty’s knees. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

Bitty slips off and Jack immediately misses the weight. He watches his silhouette reach down and grab a few piece of clothing that had been tossed aside when they fell into bed hours before. 

He can hear the crying down the hall when Bitty opens the bedroom door and it’s muffled when he softly pulls it closed behind him. 

Jack rolls over and balls the pillow up beneath his head. He stretches his legs out towards Bitty’s side and tries to keep the sheets warm for him when he gets back. He tries to doze off but he’s gotten so used to sleeping with Bitty right beside him it’s hard to do. He watches the clock change numbers for five minutes before he pushes himself out of bed. The hardwood is cold beneath his barefeet as he makes his way down the dimly lit hallway towards Olivia’s room. 

He can hear Olivia fussing and Bitty softly singing to her as he gets closer. Bitty’s left the door open a crack and Jack pushes open just enough for him to slip inside. 

Bitty’s in the rocking chair that Jack’s mother used when he was a baby. He’s illuminated by the small duckling shaped nightlight, a gift from Lardo, and Olivia is wrapped up in Bitty’s old baby blanket.

Bitty doesn’t stop singing as Jack crosses the room and kneels at his feet. Olivia’s making soft whimpering sounds as Jack pulls back the blanket so he can stroke a gentle finger down her baby pink cheek. 

“I told you to stay in bed,” Bitty tells him, voice soft and quiet. 

“Couldn’t sleep without you. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Been a little colicy lately but I think she’s getting over it. Should be sleeping through the night in a few months.”

Jack rests more of his weight against Bitty’s shins and Bitty lifts a hand to scratch through his hair. Jack tips his head into the touch. “Something to look forward to,” he answers absentmindedly. He pulls on the blanket a little more and reveals his flannel, threadbare from years of washes and wears. “Why’d you wrap her in my shirt?” 

“Whenever I wear it I always feel better,” Bitty explains. “I thought it might do the same for her.”

Jack stares up at him, momentarily unable to form the words he wants to say. 

He kisses Olivia’s cheek then pulls himself up to kiss Bitty right on the mouth. 

“Baby,” he says and he can feel the curve of Bitty’s smile against his own lips. “I love you. Both of you. So much.”

“We know. Jack, you know we know that, right?” 

He does. Really. Even in his worst moments, which are fewer and farther between than they’ve ever been, he knows that.

“Can I take her? You should go back to sleep.”

“I’m fine, Jack.” But he’s yawning and shuffling Olivia off his lap and into Jack’s arms. 

Bitty drops a kiss to the top of his head before slipping out the door and down the hall. 

Jack sits cross legged on the floor with their daughter in his arms until he’s sure she’s going to fall asleep when he puts her back down in the crib. 

He carefully unwraps the blanket and the flannel, apologizing when she starts to whimper. He rubs his knuckles back and forth over her cheek until she drifts off completely. 

He drops the blanket on the rocking chair and takes the flannel with him back down the hallway. 

Bitty’s buried beneath the covers but he’s still awake.

Jack drops the flannel on top of the comforter and pulls back the covers on his side. Bitty reaches for him immediately. 

“She’s asleep?”

“Should be good for a few more hours.”

“That's all we got.”

Jack hums. A few more hours and he's got to be up to start his day. He looks forward to it. After all these years he's carved out a successful and happy life for himself filled with Cups and wins and awards but he knows he'd give that all up for the man that's sleeping in his arms and the little girl down the hall. 

He kisses Bitty's forehead and smiles at the way his face scrunches up before it smoothes back out and he falls back to sleep. 

Jack pulls the flannel up over both of them, a half for each, and closes his eyes.


End file.
